March 01, 2009

What's wrong with these folks?! I can't believe that Team Tanless at ANSWER is at it again!

When? March 21, 2009 Where? Washington DC Time? ...

Time for another round of pointlessly pounding government pavement, followed by some serious fist-shaking, and workin' the protest babes.

Yes my adolescent and otherwise unemployable friends: the ANSWER Coalition, along with Brian Becker and Team Tanless have once again managed to impart just the right amount of zest into your suburban basement bong-smoke filled haze.

I'm sure mom won't be busy that day ... she'll give you a lift to the Metro and a little extra change. She's like that.

Well I'm here at the Tea Party ... not a lot going on except people milling about.

I do have some photos ... nothing really video worthy.

**** UPDATE ****

I'm processing more photos ... check back!

Well ... I've been to better protests.

Then again, I've been to worse.

This had all the makings of a middle-of-the-road ANSWER protest before they adopted the head-choppers.

I mean ... I know that "conservatives" are generally not protesters. We actually have "lives" and "careers" and do, from time to time something called "work" ... in addition to raising "families". This is all more or less alien to "liberals" who seem to spend most of their time wondering why everyone else doesn't think exactly the way they do.

Still, we should learn a bit from their ability to organize. Maybe next time.

Yes, Joe the Plumber was there ...

... as was Roger Simon.

And no ... you didn't do anything, Roger. I assure you. You didn't do a bloody blasted thing.

That's a private joke.

My friend and confidant Michelle Malkin was also there, in her usual beautiful way.

February 04, 2009

Actual "life" took me into DC today and, tired of dealing with traffic, I decided to Metro.

While in the Metro I noticed something which, frankly, I barely noticed during the Inauguration ... probably because it was simply of a piece with the surrounding adulation.

Pepsi was certainly seizing the day and, in the process, taking "carpe diem" and in subtle irony mixing it with "caveat emptor" into a fine corporate mush of an ad campaign ... and festooning same in all possible ranges of captive-passenger vision. Kinda creepy ... and just a tad Stalinist I think.

An Ode I might say to the generation seemingly convinced that life has a reset button. Note the URL: refresheverything.com ...

I'll add more to this sad display when I get home. Life still intervenes, after all.

**** UPDATE ****

Here's the rest of my photos ... in no particular order. They speak for themselves, I think.

Please forgive the fuzziness and handshake ... it was dark and I hate using the flash.

I should say that, believe it or not, all of these photos were taken at a single station. Adds to the creepiness, mai oui? We were awash, as it were, with the O. And I didn't even photograph them all ... some were just boring and there were repeats.

What is the Age of Hooper?

'The builders did not know the uses to which their work would descend; they made a new house with the stones of the old castle; year by year, generation after generation, they enriched and extended it; year by year the great harvest of timber in the park grew to ripeness; until, in sudden frost, came the Age of Hooper; the place was desolate and the work all brought to nothing; Quomodo sedet sola civitas. Vanity of vanities, all is vanity." ..... Evelyn Waugh, Brideshead Revisited

Bruce Catton: A Stillness at AppomattoxA taste: "The men of this army left books and letters behind them, and in these there is remarkable testimony that the men who marched away from winter quarters that morning took a last look back and saw a golden haze which, even at the moment of looking, they knew they would never see again. They tell how the birds were singing, and how the warm scented air came rolling up the river valley, and how they noticed things like wildflowers and the young green leaves, and they speak of the moving pageant which they saw and of which they themselves were part. "Everything," wrote a youth from Maine, "was bright and blowing." It would never be like this again, and young soldiers in a land that would honor them and then tolerate them and finally forget them, would look back on this one morning and see in it something that came from beyond the rim of the world."